Untold Fortune
by LilyGhost
Summary: A supposedly simple lunch leads to an even simpler decision for Stephanie.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is one result (so far) of a book of writing challenges I was given, where a different premise and ten new words to use are provided for each story. Everyone and anything familiar belongs to Janet.**

"What are you doing for lunch?" Ranger asked me, letting himself into my apartment while I'd been staring with a ' _this is total bullshit_ ' expression at the numerology chart Lula had given me this morning with the leftovers she unbelievably couldn't finish last night.

Of course, her restraint may have been due to her also getting nachos, a bucket of chicken, and an ice cream cake, to go along with the deep fried pizza, so her leftover dinner turned into my impending lunch. Lucky me, it fit into my favorite food groups too ... _fried_ and _free_. Our friendship may not be meaningful at its core, but every once in awhile it offers up a perk.

"For lunch I'm doing exactly what I'm doing now, standing over my counter just like this, only switch out this paper in my hands for some fried pizza. Did you know that my life path number is 7?"

"No, but that could be the number of hours you have left to live if you actually consume that garbage."

"It may not be a gourmet meal, but it does give my digestive track something to do for a few hours as it tries to figure out what part is artificial and what's actually food that it has a chance to break down."

"Aren't you hilarious?" He deadpanned. "You _are not_ eating that kind of shit today."

"Hey, it's _recycled_ garbagey-shit. I'm doing the landfill a favor - and the environment a service - by eating it. I'm preventing the dump from being polluted further."

"I'm sure if I look for the exact definition of an environmentalist on an online dictionary site, I'd see your picture beside it, but we can do better than potential dump-fertilizer for your lunch."

" _We?_ " I asked, seeing my day improve by the second.

"Yes. I have something to discuss with you and my lunch hour is all I have free today. We can eat and talk."

"Am I going to be able to eat after hearing what you have to say?"

If he tells me he'll be in the wind again, my appetite is going to go with him. It's a little scary how much my mental and physical state depend on how often I get to see him, which has become an everyday occurrence now ... either for lunch or a dinner/morning after-breakfast combo. Our nights have been spent together more and more often the last few weeks. If he leaves or wants to call a halt to things now that our relationship has been steadily gaining momentum, I'm not going to be happy ... and I'm definitely not going to want lunch.

"Yes," he answered again. "You may even try talking me into bringing you home a pint of celebratory ice cream from the 7-Eleven after my patrol ends tonight."

"Is that a possibility?"

"No. But you can have _me_ instead if you're still awake."

"When you put it like that," I said, winding my arms around him and kissing his jaw, "I'll head over to Rangeman tonight and have two cups of Ella's coffee for dessert, just for added insurance that I'll be up."

He hugged me back before sitting me up on the counter and stepping between my legs. I hooked my ankles behind his knees, effectively trapping him so he couldn't get away from me.

He leaned forward and put his hands on the countertop behind me. "Alright, your dessert is taken care of ... what would you like to eat now?"

"So you're serious? We really have to _talk_?" I said against his mouth.

"Unfortunately ... yes. There isn't enough time right now for me to do what I'm picturing."

I sighed in regret. "Okay. You don't like most take-out food, which is the fastest meal after a peanut butter and olive sandwich, so how about Chinese food? You complain less about the choices they offer since they almost all have some type of vegetable in them. You know the menus are in the drawer by the microwave."

He kissed me in a way that had Rex blushing, I'm guessing because we can't do more, and then he stepped back and snagged the take-out menu for _Foo Origin_ on Market Street. After only a cursory scan, he placed an order without needing to ask what I'd want there. He remembers everything ... from how I like my morning coffee, to the exact almost-boiling temperature I prefer the water in the shower to be. After living my life surrounded by people who barely notice me, being around Ranger has been revolutionary.

When he ended the call, I hopped off my temporary countertop seat and grabbed us each a bottle of water out of the fridge. He tugged me to the couch and settled into the corner so I could curl up against him. Though it's technically _Spring_ , my snow-dusted brick building says otherwise. And he and I both know when it's cold out, I tend to cuddle up to him more than usual just to suck up all the heat his big body generates.

"So what do you need to talk to me about?" I asked, when his arm came around me to pull me even closer.

"How do you feel about traveling?"

"I don't know how I feel ... since I don't really do it. A drive to Point Pleasant, or a quick trip to Vegas or Atlantic City to catch a skip, is the extent of the traveling I've done."

"And if I reword my question and ask how would you like to spend a week or two with me, someplace warmer, sleeping in a hotel near the ocean, while earning a legitimate paycheck from Rangeman?"

"Now you're talking ... what's going on? And where are you talking about going?"

"The nature of the trip is to provide what services my company and I can to the areas of Puerto Rico that are still without power, help, or hope. When the island is back on its feet and tourism picks up again, opening a new Rangeman branch in San Juan will turn a considerable profit for me. And if this trip goes well, a similar relief one to Haiti will quickly follow. Even more selfishly, I was seeing this as a way for us to sneak in some real time together while we provide a different kind of protective service if no one else will."

As I started creating visuals for what he's said, he continued.

"I need to know what you think now, because if you're going to pass, since it won't be a typical round of R&R, I'll need to start rearranging schedules and men to fill our seats so I can stay behind. If you'd like to get out of Trenton, I'll get the company jet stocked with Tastykakes and we'll leave tomorrow afternoon. Ella has offered to watch the rat if that will help tip the answer in my favor."

"Just when I think I can't give you anymore mental gold star stickers like Lisa's teacher gives her for being an incredible person, you go ahead and do something else that makes you even more amazing in my mind," I said looking up at him.

My chest felt tight with all the emotions I would need a lot of time to list.

"Does that mean we're going?"

A knock signaling the arrival of our food gave me an extra minute to think, as Ranger got up to get the door, pay and seriously tip the delivery guy, and get me a fork out of the drawer because he knows my boobs become a catch-all for my food whenever I try to use chopsticks. He handed me the utensil before sitting back down beside me.

Truth is, I don't need extra time. I'm pretty sure I'd follow this man to the ends of the earth, never mind to a beautiful place that is desperate for help that never seemed to come.

I waited to answer until he had opened all the containers and sat back with his, which was filled with broccoli trying to hide its disgustingness by swimming in something spicy enough to distract your taste buds from the fact that it's a green vegetable that should be avoided. I silently thanked my pork fried rice, my two go-to food groups resurfacing - fried and free - for not being what he's eating.

"What should I pack?" I asked, to get the conversation restarted.

"Whatever you're comfortable in. Are you sure? Your mother is going to give you hell for leaving town with me."

"Do you know what the best part about this trip is ... aside from being with you and doing something good in the process?"

"What?"

I gave him an evil grin in-between forkfuls of rice. "I won't be here, so I won't have to listen to my mother's opinion on anything we do, not that I plan on putting up with it when we're back. I'll just call Grandma from the plane and let her have the fun of telling my mother where I am."

I got a hundred-watt grin before he dropped a kiss on the top of my head. We finished our food as I asked for specifics on who else will be going, what supplies we're bringing, and if we actually have to come back to Jersey. My curiosity and questions only took a break when I reached for the complimentary fortune cookies that aren't as good as chocolate chip ones, but are still cookies nonetheless. I shook my head and felt my face go through a couple different expressions as I read the words my snapped-open cookie revealed.

"I'm not sure I trust that smile, Babe. What is that cookie telling you?"

"That _'A new voyage will fill your life with untold memories'_ ," I shared, tipping my head back against him as both of his arms came back around me. "It's the first fortune I've opened that feels like it could come true."

"Not _could_ , Steph, _will_ come true ... starting tomorrow."

I shot a smile his way. "Let the memories begin."

 **A/N: Stephanie's fortune cookie fortune I saw online.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I decided to try another book-challenge page and use it to follow Ranger and Stephanie on their trip. Thanks MamaJoyce for sharing inspiration for another buddy for Ranger. He, his men, and his mission, live on. All familiar characters are Janet's.**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Ranger's POV**

We'd only been packing boxes for ten minutes today before a clap of thunder shook the building I'd rented to add to the economy as well as to store the supplies I had flown in. Hurricane season has already rolled back around ... and we're personally feeling it now.

Knowing people in every corner of the world, all of whom are as fearless as I am, if not more so, comes in handy when you need help without strings or any bureaucratic bullshit. Flying someplace that 'officials' avoid? I'd need to borrow more hands in order to count how many times I've done exactly that. Want to offer civilan aid without attracting attention or weapon fire? If you know the right people, it's only a question of what time they should be ready to take off. And if you need an aircraft larger than a standard jet to carry food, water, medically-trained military personnel, and some comfort items people have been only dreaming about ... you call those who used to make runs with Kurtis Wright.

Kurt was the Marine mastermind behind the catchphrase ' _relief knows no fucking borders_ ' ... _his_ words and the basis of the organization he started and continued to head and participate in until he was shot down in Bosnia on run number three as he was bringing food, medicine and those who can correctly dispense it, along with drinking water and portable shelters, to make life a bit more bearable for those who've become _living_ casualties of war. The world may have lost a truly remarkable man, but his legacy and mission has remained alive long after him.

To this day, if the Combat Vets I've met, have served with, or was contacted to help, want something more 'challenging' than a job at Rangeman, I steer them the 'Wright' way. Medics, Corpsmen, Marines, and Soldiers alike, are always needed and will always be appreciated. Life for them didn't end when their service did, it began all over again by fighting wars, and fighting for freedom for the people, in another but no less dangerous capacity.

War, natural disasters, and worldwide poverty, unfortunately haven't slowed down any since we lost Kurt. When he shared what he was hoping to make his life's work for the second phase of it, I'd made a vow to him to do whatever I can to make and keep his dream a reality. His death didn't break that promise. A line item in my company's budget is dedicated to keeping Kurt's Globemasters flying, fully-stocked, and filled with Vets who still have that 'save the world' drive which fuels all of us.

Corrupt governments, genocides, and both manmade and natural disasters, may always be issues that need to be combated, but right behind the mayhem are men like Kurt who are on call 24/7 just waiting for the next dot on the globe to appear where they're needed. If he was alive, _he'd_ be here with us ... not just his cargo plane and a few members of his crew. Like it had been with Kurt, one call was all I needed to place in order to get added supplies and extra muscle to come to Puerto Rico with us, bearing _far_ from empty hands. Hell, this is probably a vacation to them compared to their recent 'visits' to Syria.

"I thought the company guaranteed that the electricity would be on for longer than a day?" Steph said, changing the course of my thoughts as we faced yet another blackout.

She's been holding up well. If a yardstick was put up to her that measures strength or empathy, she'd need an extender for it to fully calculate the amount of care and concern she feels for everyone around us. My men are far from starving, yet she continues to make sure everyone else ... resident, visitor, or Merry Man, has whatever they need before she'll relax and take care of herself. I wouldn't have a problem with that, knowing Ella's propensity towards spoiling others, but Ella can make sure she keeps herself running at 100 percent, whereas Steph will wear herself out trying to ensure no one else is suffering.

"A promise that's made but refuses to be kept, is placating at its worst," I answered.

"No, shit," Bobby added. " _Everyone_ should've had continuous electricity at least three days after Maria hit."

"Or had a swarm of helicopters dropping supplies off daily," Ramon said, "so people could eat and actually live without power if they're being forced to. I wouldn't have believed this if I weren't here looking at it."

"Yeah, back in Jersey you either heard cricket-silence about the island or a prettied-up version of its condition," Woody noted.

That earned him nods of agreement from Junior and Zero, who despite the storm and increasing darkness were still loading non-perishables that we've boxed up onto the back of one of the trucks I'd arranged to use. We have battery-operated lights, some aren't even that lucky. We've already hauled ass and repaired four roofs just in the last three days, attempting to beat the predicted rain. If the weather was going to ruin and end lives here, it should now have the decency to stay outside of the homes it hadn't completely destroyed.

Luckily, among my RangeTeam, I have some of Kurt's men who were able to get repairs done while Steph and I were busy on the other side of the island. J.C. and Marcel being in the same physical shape as they were when they were first deployed, they haven't slowed down at all. They're currently helping Armador, our unofficial guide/helper bundle together individual care packages for everyone who still needs more than just water bottles and paper towels chucked at them during a press op. The four men who accompanied Marcel and J.C. in Kurt's honor, were already gone for the day, putting the screws to some more houses or people responsible for not providing what they should have.

"On the upside, the ten of us get to hang out together with none of those pesky modern day inconveniences like lights, air conditioning, running water, and reliable internet access."

"Your sarcasm is showing, Babe."

"Good. I'm still pissed on everyone living on the island's behalf, as well as their families and friends who know what's going on here and can't get anyone else to acknowledge - or help fix - it."

" _You're_ helping, Steph," Bobby reminded her.

"Not enough. We should've been here months ago ..."

"Government assistance should've been given months ago," I pointed out. "We wouldn't have been needed if Puerto Rico received as much media attention and financial support as Texas and Florida did with Maria and Harvey."

"Exactly. So whatever I can do, I'm going to."

"You being here is enough," I tried to tell her.

"No it isn't. With the reported ' _excess deaths_ ' now in the thousands due to the storm's ripple effect, I think everyone deserves far more than they've gotten ... even from us," she told us, adding another letter to a box as it was being walked past by J.C. "A personal message from me to show that they aren't alone out here, is literally the least I can do. My handwriting at least is improving with every stay strong well-wish. Mrs. Benedetti's prodigious effort in teaching me how to hold a pencil correctly has clearly paid off, since I can write these without anyone needing a chicken scratch-translator to read them."

Seeing how she likes to adopt my men, it wasn't a surprise to discover that from the moment we landed, she embraced the place and the people like she'd found a second home. Our days have been longer than the daily grind in Trenton, but seeing the slight difference we're making seems to be reenergizing her.

"It isn't your teacher's diligence paying off, Babe. It's you. You care and it shows."

"I have a partner in crime there," she said, leaning forward to give me a quick kiss. "Well, _eight_ crime-partners today, minus the crime."

"One could say staying on the right side of the law is a carefully choreographed ballet," Bobby stated, waxing poetic in the ninety-degree heat and all-too-familiar no lights, no cool air, no amenities in some cases, conditions.

"Some could, but we're righting a wrong, not creating a new one," she stated.

I can't agree more. Sometimes donating money to a good cause isn't enough. I've been in war zones that look similar to what we've seen since landing ... flattened homes, uprooted trees, children crying and elders' eyes looking resigned. My experiences usually involve bombs, dictators, and terrorists, but the outcome here is too close to a war-scene for comfort. That this type of destruction happened in my country that I'd die to protect, means it's _my_ job to clean up the mess.

"We're ready to roll," J.C. informed me. "Good thing the truck runs on gas, not electricity or we'd be fucked."

"It's early," Bobby replied, "the screw-potential is still high. I warn you now, if I see one more person without a solid roof overhead or running water under it, I won't be responsible for my actions."

"Good," Steph told him. "We _should_ be mad as hell. If we forced our families to live like some people here have, we'd get charged with abuse and immediately be locked up, but because it's 'someplace else' where we don't have to look out our windows and see the damage ourselves, we can comfortably ignore it."

"You didn't hesitate in agreeing to come with me, Steph," I said in a serious tone so she'd listen harder. "You aren't ignoring anything."

"But I should be doing ... _more_."

"You can," Marcel said with a quick grin, "by starting to load truck two. We'll be back in less than twenty minutes if the weather and roads cooperate."

"What we do in blackouts as adults is definitely different than what we did as kids," she said, with a small smile back at him.

"Oh really?" I asked her, purposely being playful to keep her mind and mood from turning dark. "The first one to finish packing will get beach-duty this afternoon after the rain is gone."

Although that means cleaning more debris _off it_ rather than _relaxing on it_ , Steph only paused to give Marcel and J.C. each a ' _Thanks for coming here with us_ ' forearm squeeze before hurrying to roll up the back door of the box truck to hopefully get a jumpstart on winning.

Not only can you make a difference wherever you are in the world, you can also actively choose to enjoy every moment of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ranger and Stephanie belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine. I decided to try out a third challenge. This one is 'a romantic scene in an unromantic place' with ten new words so warnings for a little Babe alone-time fun.**

 **Chapter 3**

 **Ranger's POV**

"I really hate the idea of leaving this place," Steph shared.

That isn't a surprise, given how Stephanie has taken to the island, but her admitting that while we're currently stranded is unexpected. Technically, we _aren't_ stranded. If I wanted an elbow to the ribs, I could suggest we bundle up the essentials and take a four-mile walk/hike back to the warehouse where we've been stationed these past two weeks. But I decided just she and I hanging out here in our truck while we wait for R.C. to arrive with a new rocker arm has its benefits.

Warm temperatures, an impending rain shower, and the woman I can't live without in an extremely good mood despite the difficulty Puerto Rico was still facing when we and Wright's team touched down here. If my mother had joined us, she would've had her Bible out in record time to put some weight behind her prayers for everyone's morale and safety, her brown eyes lighting with a renewed spark at a new opportunity to help out others. This trip has shown me a similar side in Stephanie, and I see a lot of the same determination and compassion my mother has in her.

"I know," I told Steph. "You've gone from a woman who hated getting up before noon, to one who wakes up too early and immediately rolls out of bed as she asks what we're doing that day."

"Give me a direction and some motivation, and there's no stopping me," she said, clearly joking.

I'm not.

"Proud of you, Babe."

"I have to say ... I'm proud of me, too. I wanted to do something with my life, but I never thought I'd be able to accomplish anything beyond catching a few bad guys. This is something else altogether."

"I'm glad you see that. A lot of people are either blind to those around them and their suffering, or blind to the positive impact they have made on the lives of others."

"I know which of those people I want to be."

"No _wanting_ required. You're already there."

"Thanks for saying that, but we both know I'm only here because of you."

"Yes ... I put this trip together, but _you're_ the one who chose to come. And you're the one who continues to bust her ass everyday to make outlooks and homes better wherever we find ourselves. You could be back in Jersey right now, emptying my bottle of shower gel in my bathroom in one of your preferred hour-long showers, afterwards sleeping ten to twelve hours in a king-sized bed in my climate controlled environment. But instead, you're here ... some nights too tired or sore to even consider showering, scooting out of a hotel bed right behind me before dawn, knowing your body will only be stopping a few hours before morning happens all over again."

"That's not completely true. We're stopped now, aren't we? You know ... if we had a horse, all we'd need is advice from a blacksmith to get back on the road and back to business again, none of this waiting around for a part."

"Julie has been taking riding lessons since she was seven, Babe. Horses require more care and gear than you'd think."

"Figures." She cuddled up closer to me as we watched a few raindrops splatter against the windshield. "I shouldn't admit this, knowing why we came to the island, but this particular moment is kinda nice. Just the two of us, alone like we usually aren't until we call it a day, and a passing rain cloud is giving us background noise that sounds slightly musical if you let your imagination run with it. If we had a tent and some barbeque, we'd have what the Merry Men would call the ideal vacation."

"Only you, Steph."

"Okay, so this would be luxurious accommodations for them after the places they've 'camped', but you have to admit ... this does feel oddly romantic."

"Being in a non-moving truck, sitting almost front bumper-to-tree, on a heavily-forested road that only became cautiously usable yesterday, is romantic to you?"

She made good use of what is an almost extinct bench seat by sliding closer and wrapping both of her arms tight around me.

"Maybe it's just the company I'm lucky to have with me that has me feeling this way," she said into my pec.

That's all my body needed to hear. My mind was a little more focused, knowing Kurtis' man R.C., won't be here for at least another fifteen minutes. That knowledge, and the fact that we can't be seen from the road where I'd managed to coast the truck to, had me turning my body towards her so I could lower my head and kiss her.

My tongue touched hers as I deepened the kiss. Her moan, which she still vehemently claims not to do, encouraged me to take things further. I slid my hand under the " _Wright Way_ " t-shirt she was given as a 'welcome to the family' gift by Kurt's team, and my fingers moved beneath the bra covering the soft skin I was after.

"Should we be doing this now? _Here?_ " Steph asked, when I ended the kiss in preparation for the next one.

"We can't help anyone except ourselves at the moment. I don't see why we can't celebrate life, given how many lives have been lost here."

"I'm not sure bringing up the thousands of people who have died on the island over the last year is the way to keep a sexy mood going."

"That wasn't my intention. What I was saying is that I understand more than most that life is precious and unpredictable. And I refuse to take you, or any time I have with you, for granted. If another hurricane hit right now and I was killed due to it, I want you to know, and actually be able to _feel,_ how much I love and appreciate you. It would be disrespectful to every victim here if we act as though we're invincible and that tomorrow is always promised to us."

"Enough _talking_ ," she said, bypassing my shirt and going straight to undoing my belt buckle, "more _kissing_."

I wasn't spouting introspective shit just to get into her pants ... in her _shorts_ in today's case. Puerto Rico has had a profound effect on me as it has her, not only because Jersey has already been hit with Frankenstorm Sandy, and having to worry about Julie with what feels like every hurricane that has formed over the last decade, has made a natural disaster always a concern. But Steph and I also have jobs that could get us killed every time we leave the building. _Celebrate life and respect death_ has been my motto, and how I've lived my life, since enlisting. And it appears Stephanie has taken my message to heart.

Her shirt and bra were pushed up so I could tease her nipples with my mouth, lips, and tongue, as I helped her out of her shorts and panties. But before I could get my body out from behind the wheel, or stop her to extend the play until time took the matter out of my hands, she straddled me and slid her body down onto mine.

She began to roll her hips and I did what I could to hold on, driving mine upwards every time she came back down. It wasn't as leisurely as I would've liked, but what we made was even more love regardless of our short window of opportunity.

Every second, every kiss, and every body roll, she and I made count. Our ten minutes was as thorough and satisfying as entire nights we've spent together. When the emotions are there, everything comes together quickly ... quite _literally_ today when it came to us inside this pickup.

"I love you like crazy, you know," she whispered, when we had stopped moving and started breathing again.

Our foreheads are still touching and the curls that were loose at her temple caught the beads of sweat streaming down the left side of my face. My t-shirt will have to make a pass over the rest on the right side if she doesn't kiss them off me as we got each other presentable again.

"I _do_ know that," I assured her. "I hear and feel it everyday."

"Good. That means I'm _finally_ doing something right. And in case I've been too subtle in saying it ... I'm so glad I came to this island with you."

"So am I ... and so is every person you've encountered, helped, and have quickly befriended, here."

 **A/N: Since writing the last chapter, I was happy to find out that there's actually a charity similar to Ranger's buddy Kurt's ... called Team Rubicon. For anyone interested, you can learn about their disaster relief efforts by googling their name and/or website that fanfic won't let me provide here.**


End file.
